So.
Let’s just gloss over the fact that I haven’t posted in
about 9 months. (Except to say this: no, I did not have a baby). Instead, let’s
talk Wu Wei.
“What is Wu Wei?” I hear you ask. Well, the online dictionary
(though not the OED, as that slammed its doors in my face once I stopped
being a student), defines it thusly:
noun (in philosophical Taoism) action accomplishing its purpose in accordance with the natures of things and events.
So obviously that clears things up then.
...
Hmm? Still don’t get it? Well that’s OK.
Because within the confines of this blog post, you don’t really need to “get
it”, as such. All you really need to know is that Wu Wei is a new comics
anthology, pulled together by the ever-industrious
Mike Medaglia, with
contributions all around the theme of spirituality. A very grown-up subject
matter indeed, and one that has clearly been mulled over carefully by the
various contributors.
Contributions range from the quiet and contemplative (see
Tim Hassan’s piece), to the visually arresting (
Christian Ward's colourful centre page is just stunning), to the downright chortle-inducing (
John Riordan.
Meditato. ‘Nuff said). What becomes immediately clear when leafing through this
beautiful book (and it really is beautiful) is just how personal “Wu Wei” is.
Each interpretation is different. Each shines a little light on the creator. And each makes you think that little bit harder about what your take on “Wu Wei”
might be. This is a book that is deeply contemplative, and
inspiring of contemplation as a result.
Nowhere is this clearer than with
Andy Poyiadgi’s origami comic. When I was speaking to Mike about it, he said he hoped people would “take a quiet moment” to construct the comic, and I find it hard to imagine anyone doing otherwise. When I sat down to tackle mine, I found it required a certain kind of focus: prompting me to go into tunnel vision, shutting out everything else. By the time I had intricately pulled it together and could spend some time turning the corners to read it, I was in a pensive mood, taking in the beauty and sadness of the story with a new kind of absorption.
A similar experience
washed over me as I read
Howard Hardiman’s contribution to Wu Wei. Something
about the repetition and the regular and reflecting lines lulled me into a
different mode of reading than I’m used to. I didn’t charge through Wu Wei. I
didn’t power my way through with the kind of voracious appetite that people associate
with “page turners”. And in making me take the time to think about what I was
reading, it was so much better and more valuable for it.
I wish I could take the time to talk through every wonderful
contribution to Wu Wei, but that would be a very long blog post and I fear my
fingers would fall off from all the typing. And it becomes very difficult to
bake when you don’t have fingers.
SPEAKING OF BAKING (see what I did there?), whilst I was not
a “contributor” to Wu Wei itself, I like to think I was a “contributor” to its
birthing into the world. (…please immediately banish any mental images of
someone birthing a book. I apologise for putting them out there). Here’s the
deal: there was a launch party for Wu Wei last Friday at Gosh - the home of all
good launch parties* - and I agreed to make a cake for it. A special, spiritual
cake.
Hmm.
As a person who doesn’t, admittedly, think about
spirituality a huge amount (sorry, I mostly think about comics and cake
and nerdy things), the natural and most obvious direction for me to go in with
this was a yin and yang cake. SORTED. And actually, bar a couple of slight
obstacles, I think it turned out pretty well:
I decided to make life slightly complicated for myself, and
rather than just ice it like the yin and yang, make it yin and yang all the way
through – cakey innards and all. Because, you know…easy is boring, and all that
jazz. So come with me now on a journey through time and space my cake
crafting process.
Step one: Sketch out the cake in my brain. Who needs pen and
paper? ...What’s that? Most sensible people, you say? PFFT, I say. PFFT. But for
the sake of illustration, here’s what the sketching process in my brain looked
like:
Step two: Pick a recipe. EASY.
This one, from the trusty
folks over at BBC Good Food, is one I’ve made before, and it always goes down
well. Fret around for a while about how to adapt that
recipe to make two different coloured cakes (the yin and the yang). Ultimately
decide to add cocoa powder to one cake to make it dark (with some twiddling
around with other ingredients for flavour and SCIENCE).
Step three: BAKE TWO CAKES. This part also comes complete
with step 3b: LICK TWO CAKE BOWLS. And – because I’m nice – also allow
housemate to lick cake bowls.
Step four: Whilst cakes are cooling, make a very
sophisticated stencil from some fairly sturdy cardboard. Try to make the halves as even as possible. You could probably do this properly with the help of maths
and stuff, but I gave up maths after GCSEs. I used my eyes instead, as they
generally work out OK for me.
Step five: Delicately place stencil on top of cake(s) and
slice around with a knife. This results in 4 (almost even) curvy halves.
Step six: Whip up some tasty cream cheese frosting (thank
you,
Hummingbird Bakery) and use to sandwich together the bottom halves – one
dark next to one light. Cover those with a layer of the frosting, then repeat
the process (delicately, now) with the other two halves, placing them on top. Finally, use the rest
of the frosting to cover the top of the cake.
Step seven: Painstakingly roll out some regal icing, and use
the aforementioned stencil to cut out a circular topper – a little bigger than
the size of the cake tin, as it needs to droop down over the sides a TINY bit.
Manhandle that onto the top of the cake without breaking anything.
Step eight: Using more rolled out regal icing, cut around
the half-size stencil to create a yin/yang. Again, make it a little bigger than
the stencil itself. Then use a cookie cutter to punch out a circle in the
bulbous part of the yin/yang.
Step nine: Paint the punched out circle and the yin/yang
(damnit, I’m going to have to research this now so I can stop writing yin/yang…hold
on…)…the YIN with black food dye. This would’ve been a lot easier if the Little
Waitrose on my way home from work deigned to sell black regal icing, but
NO. Sigh. Various hours (and layers of food dye later), gently lift the painted
icing onto the top of the cake, using a little water to stick the layers of
icing together.
Step ten: CAKE.
 |
| Picture courtesy of Mauricio Molizane De Souza |
I managed to store the cake at work during the day without
anyone from my office eating it (victory), and lugged it across to Gosh in the
evening, where it lasted all of 5 minutes once I’d started cutting it up and
serving it.
I think it went down well. At the very least, it was
endorsed by Jack McInroy (one half of
South London Hardcore) – a hard man to please:
Me: So? Was it alright then?
Jack: Yeah, it was really nice! I thought it was going to be
too dense when I saw it…but no, it was nice!
High praise if ever I’ve heard it.
You can go and read all about Wu Wei over
here, and have a
look at some of the beautiful photos shot at the launch party by the very talented
Mauricio Molizane De Souza
here. And once you’ve done all that, you should
really just go and buy the comic, shouldn’t you? I mean…come on now. That’s
where this is heading, isn’t it? Best just to give in.
